Arrival
by TheGrudge154
Summary: Happy Camper Orphanage has a new young one to join their ranks. Sly's first days in his new home don't exactly live up to the name.


**Arrival**

Darkened clouds, rumbling skies and the threat of a constant downpour of rain made this particular night the perfect candidate for a storm. Typical for such bad weather to occur just as all the younger children had fallen asleep, given them an opportunity to stay awake far past their given bedtime. Though, it would always be such a way with young ones. If anything, their imaginations and need to explore only grew when they were in such a situation as this. To them, something as simple as a storm was an excuse to make up stories with each other, ideas at to what could be causing it, to break them out of their usual isolated feeling. As would any child living in a place without any parental figures to speak of. At least that's how Mrs. Puffin saw it. Having been in charge of the Happy Campers Orphanage for over 12 years now, the bird had learned to recognise the behaviour of the children in her care in all manner of situations. She wore a stern look as a default, her manner and attitude to most of the children being one of a uptight nanny who wanted those under her watch to obey all the rules to the letter. She was sure most of the kids would probably accuse her of being a "meany" or being too strict. Maybe. But underneath it all, she did care somewhat. After all, her bedtime rule was only to make sure that they got the sleep they needed for the usual energetic pace of their day to day misadventures. Even if those misadventures often meant trying to sneak into her office to steal her cookie jar…

Oh well, no matter. Right now, Mrs. Puffin envied the children who were actually asleep. Even through the voices that she could hear through the walls, there were some who actually did get some rest when they were told. Truthfully, she wished she could join them, today having been particularly exhausting. But, alas, paperwork for recent arrivals still needed to be sorted out, checked, then double-checked…at least the pile of papers was getting smaller. Mrs. Puffin glanced up from her typewriter, rubbing her eyes underneath the glasses perched on the end of her beak. All this work to be completed and yet she had received a call of another new arrival soon to be joining the other children. That night, in fact. At this hour, she was positive the bad weather approaching them had delayed the child's journey somewhat, since the storm was travelling towards them from the suburbs. A flash of light almost made the bird jump out of her feathers as it cast strange and unusual shadows and shapes over her office. Shaking her head with an annoyed grunt, she stood from her seat and stretched her wings, walking to the window for any signs of activity. Except for the twinkling lights of the city in the distance partially being obscured by the raindrops coming down in a flood against the glass, she spotted no vehicles. And given how the child was being delivered by police, she would've at least guessed some red and blue lights would've been visible. No such sight greeted her tired eyes. Only more rain and the rustling of branches in a nearby apple tree.  
>Mrs. Puffin found the whole ordeal rather strange. Staring out of the window, glancing idly up at the darkened skies, she recalled the events leading to such a strange drop-off of another young one into her care. She had received a call from the Chief Inspector no less of the city's police force, informing her that they would be escorting a child to her that evening. From the tone of his voice, the way it sounded heavy and rather gruff, she could only assume the young one was a troublemaker that they had finally gotten into custody and a rather grand one at that given how high up the caller's rank was.<br>Well, either that or the Chief Inspector had that tone naturally.  
>She had dealt with many different "cases" at the Orphanage, including some who had gotten into trouble with the law on occasion. But she expected a challenge from the new one, especially since the call had come from the very top of the tree, so to speak. Her mind wandered as to who it would be. And for what purpose the police had taken them in for. The whole affair was still a mystery to her, seeing as she hadn't even received the usual file of information for a new child. She had no idea of an age, a gender or even a name. She cocked her head, resting it in her feathered hand."Well, they better get here soon…" she said quietly to herself, a her crisp English accent resounding throughout the room. "I'm tired and I'd rather this whole thing got put to bed so I can join it in the land of Nod…"A yawn escaped her beak when something finally caught her eye in the distance. On the road leading to the Orphanage, she could see a soft light, gradually getting brighter and even momentarily blinding her when it seemed to glare her in the face. Given it's movement and it's journey along the path, she could only assume it was a car. She turned away from the window, brushing off her dress to make herself a little more presentable and then headed out of the office. Making special care to lock it in case some naughty little ones tried to make off with the jar again.<p>

The door to the Orphanage opened as Mrs. Puffin gazed at the single Interpol-marked car drawing up to the path and coming to a halt rather abruptly. By now, the rain had truly begun to pour and the bird had to wrap her wings around herself to shield her feathers from the cold wing blowing through. The door to the left side of the car opened and a single canine-looking officer exited the vehicle and hurriedly made his way to the waiting Orphanage head. His dark blue uniform was quickly taking on an even deeper shade of colour as the rain hammered into him. By the time he reached Mrs. Puffin, his hat was the only thing that kept his golden fur it's light shade. Taking a moment to join in the slight shivering, the officer, a Constable given his badge, nodded his head in a silent greeting before he spoke.  
>"Terrible weather for something like this, eh?"<br>"Oh, indeed. I can't remember the last it rained this heavily" Mrs. Puffin replied. She took a momentary glance at the car before speaking once again. "I take it this is a special one given the circumstances?"  
>The officer nodded his head. "Too right. Kept the young 'un in custody for the last day or so"<br>"What was he in there for? Young children don't get taken in by the police for no good reason"  
>"Oh, the boy ain't done nothing wrong. More like a, uh…how did the Chief say it? A 'victim of circumstance'. Not entirely sure about it all, but hey. Not my job to know in this case"<br>Mrs. Puffin was rather surprised. Partially in a good way because of she was now not going to be harbouring some criminal fugitive. And she now knew it was a boy which at least gave her something to start with. Though the fact the child hadn't yet made an appearance was a little odd. And where was the Chief? He had said he was going to be here. Almost as if there wasn't a pause, the young Constable kept speaking. "And there's something a little wrong with him…"  
>"Wrong?" she answered with a surprised blink.<br>"Yeah…I don't know the full facts, only the Chief does since he responded to the initial call. He'll be out in a min-oh, right now in fact!"  
>The bird glanced over when she heard the familiar sound of a door opening, despite the hiss of the rain hitting the ground. A figure stood from the driver's side of the car, taking a moment to adjust the sunglasses on the end of their snout. Why he was wearing them was anyone's guess. His brown-yellow jacket flapped around in the stiff wind whipped up from the storm, his orange fur already becoming darker in shade from the rain just like his Constable partner. He turned to face the bird, nodding his head slightly, allowing Mrs. Puffin to take a decent look at his face. Dark blue-tinted shoulder length hair with a hint of a curl blew across his face, nudging the sunglasses down with a gloved hand to reveal brilliant rusty-brown eyes. Chief Inspector Álvaro Fox. A legend amongst Interpol for his solid policing work, he had busted more bad guys and wrong-doers than any other officer who had been on the force for the years he'd been working. Naturally, his abilities granted him a prominent position within Interpol and if he was here to drop the boy off, then this was most certainly a special case. Mrs. Puffin straightened her dress once again, standing firmly as she observed the Inspector open the back passenger door. When it was closed again, she watched the fox take an unusually slow pace around the back of the car, his usual strong frame hunched over slightly as he kept glancing down to his left. As he finally emerged from the other wise, it was clear why he was doing so.<br>Holding the Inspector's hand was a young male raccoon, no older than 8 years old. A dark blue cap hung lazily off one of his ears, appearing to be far too big for him to wear. His light blue shirt was already soaking, almost sagging down to his thighs from the sheer amount of rain it seemed to have absorbed, a hint he had been in this weather far earlier than just this evening. His fur was darkened as everyone's was from the current precipitation, ruffled up and unkempt but still sporting the same "black mask" look common to all raccoons. In the hand that wasn't holding the Inspector's, a most peculiar object was gripped tightly, almost like a vice. Some sort of staff or cane, brown along it's length before ending in a golden, C-shaped hook.. The boy himself was looking forward, but slightly off-centre, almost as if he was daydreaming even though he was walking. He stumbled lazily on the odd occasion, Inspector Fox had to keep motioning him forward, so slow was the boy's walk. The Orphanage head could see what the Constable meant by the child being a little off. As the pair of them came closer, she noticed the boy's eyes were partially red, almost as if he had been crying. Though she couldn't guess as to why. And…something about his demeanour was just strange. If she could even hazard a guess, the child seemed to be…"broken" somehow. Álvaro came close enough to stop and let his Constable take the boy's hand. With his own hands now free, he flipped out a cigarette from his jacket pocket, quickly shielding it from the rain and lighting it. He took in an inhale, blowing it out into the freezing air before he nodded his head once again.  
>"Mrs. Puffin. Glad you could be here in person" he said in his gruff, Hispanic-toned voice.<br>"I always am for new arrivals" she replied, readjusting her position whilst casting another look at the boy. "Though I believe this one is a rather unusual exception""You would guess correctly" the fox said, taking another drag from his cigarette. "The child was found in terrible circumstances, I'm afraid"  
>The head raised a brow. As she had previously thought, the background of those under her care was never anything to have the head of police involved with. So, naturally, she was intrigued. "How?" she asked. "What happened to him?"<br>Inspector Fox exhaled, letting the ashes of his cigarette float away on the now brisk wind. He glanced from side to side, motioning towards the inside of the Orphanage. "I believe that inside would be a better place to discuss this"

In a matter of minutes, the four of them were inside Mrs. Puffins office. Having taken up her usual space behind her desk, the Inspector sat on one of the chair in front of it. His Constable was next to the boy who had yet to say a word. He still carried the same blank look, gripped the cane in the same way. Indeed, this was definitely making up for a less than interesting evening. Inspector Fox, having tossed his cigarette into the bin mere moments ago, leaned forward, speaking in a hushed tone.  
>"I have to say, this is not something I'd usually get involved in. After all, you should know better than anyone that orphans can turn up from anywhere"<br>"Indeed. And it's usually for less tame reasons than what I'm guessing you're about to tell me"  
>Álvaro nodded softly, glancing once more back at the boy. The Constable was trying to explain what was to happen next, that the boy would be staying here from now on. But the child was simply sat on a small stool, swinging his legs but staring down at the floor. A futile effort it seemed. Inspector Fox shook his head and turned face Mrs. Puffin again.<br>"I better fill you in on the details. We received the call late a few nights ago. A break in at a house out near the suburbs, you know Grove Lane? I'd have given it to some of the other officers on duty until I realised the call was coming from an old …"acquaintance" of mine. One Conner Cooper. The fact he was calling me personally was more than enough to get my attention"  
>"Acquaintance meaning "potential suspect" I assume?" the bird asked.<br>"Well, a long time ago anyway. It'd been years since he'd tried anything unlawful. Started a family a few years ago, wife died shortly afterwards. I guess all his attention was focused on his kid. I've been on…_had_ been hoping to track him down for a while anyway. I won't get into those details. But he was the one who made the call. He sounded panicked, asking specifically for me to get there to protect someone. He had to cut it short for some reason or other, but I'd known Cooper was never one to be like this. So, I took a team down to the house, see what the commotion was about.  
>"We arrived at the house. It was an utter mess. The door was smashed up, the place had been ransacked. Multiple perpetrators from the evidence, and there wasn't much of it. Whoever was responsible had kept it clean, for the most part. A vault had been ripped open, whatever was inside was long gone. Then we found Conner…"<br>The Inspector closed his eyes for a moment, almost as if shaking off the thought from his head. He didn't want to describe what he found again and simply moved onto his next point.  
>"Anyway…amidst all this debris and the…blood, we found the boy hiding in a closet thanks to a trail of the stuff leading in there. He was safe, at least. But from what I could guess, he'd seen everything. The break-in, the robbery, his own father <em>dead<em>. He was damn-near…catatonic, for lack of a better word. He wouldn't respond to anything we said or did, no words or actions. Even when we were trying to assure him those responsible were gone, he wouldn't move. Until we tried to take the cane. It was evidence after all. He refused to let it go, almost starting screaming as us not to take it. He was gripping that cane for all he could. As soon as we stopped, so did he. I didn't have the heart to try again.  
>"We kept him in the station for his own safety, but he was still unresponsive. We tried to get some information out of him, anything that would be of use to catch Conner's attacker. We only managed to get the boy's name. Kept calling himself "Sly", a nickname I suppose. The cap and the cane belonged to his father, though we barely managed to find that out. We had to try and work around his hands to get some samples, fingerprints, you know the drill. If we even tried to move it he went mad."Mrs. Puffin brought up a feathered hand to show she had heard enough. She had been used to dealing with orphans who had been brought to her care who had lost parents to some tragic form or another. This young boy was no exception. But she had to admit to having never dealt with one who had been so visibly affected by it. Serious mental trauma would not be easy to help this Sly recover from, especially given an impressionable mind at that age. She nodded her head, watching as the Inspector pulled another cigarette from his jacket. A scornful look made him return it to his pocket. Mrs. Puffin glanced at the young raccoon, still yet to move.<br>"Well, I shall do my best to help"  
>"That's all I can ask, Mrs. Puffin. I don't even think I'm alright with my own little girl, dealing with stuff like this isn't my strong point, even as a honest cop"<br>"Luckily I have experience in this manner. Some interaction with the other children should help him somewhat, the rest will have to be up to time"  
>Inspector Fox couldn't help but return his own slight look of scorn. Even bringing in The Contessa to find out some information didn't help. She put it down to Sly being complex and rebellious in nature. But it's like the kid's head was in lockdown rather than that.<br>"I'd treat this more delicately than just simple interaction, Mrs. Puffin. I've seen stuff like this before and kids need help after something like that"  
>"Not to worry, Inspector. I can handle the job" the bird replied, raising a brow. An officer of the law he may have been, but she knew what she was doing and he was out of line to suggest otherwise. Inspector Fox shook his head softly standing up and motioning to his Constable to get going. The other officer nodded his head, taking one last glance at the young boy before heading out of the door on his superior's orders. The Inspector himself sighed, returning his sunglasses to his their proper position over his eyes.<br>"Mrs. Puffin"  
>"Inspector"<br>With that, he was gone. Mrs. Puffin watched the car drive away down the path from her window before letting out her own sigh. She turned to the boy. He was still staring at the floor, unphased by the lightning or anything going on around him. She thought to herself for a moment to think of what room she could make him stay in. After all, the house itself was getting rather full. It was only due to luck of some of the older ones leaving that she had any space left. It clicked after some moments on which room would have a spare bed before she made her way over to the boy. Kneeling down, she tried to get his attention.  
>"Sly, isn't it? Sly, I'm Mrs. Puffin. I'm here to take care of you"She received no response. The raccoon's only reaction was to draw the cane closer to himself. She cocked her head, realising the effort was futile at this stage. She took his free hand, leading him out of the office and down one of the hallways. Each door led to a room of the children, either organised into assigned places or groups of friends they had made themselves. The one at the very end would have a spare bed available, she thought. Grasping the old wooden handle, the door opened with a creak and light thud against the wall. A typical looking boys bedroom, a pale blue covering the walls and toys scattered over the floor. The two occupants were already fast asleep and she didn't feel like waking them up to inform them of a new roommate. Instead, Mrs. Puffin guided Sly towards the lower bunk of an empty bed, peeling away the blankets from the mattress to let the boy in. Normally she wouldn't allow children to sleep in their clothes, but it was late and she needed some rest herself. She hurriedly left the room, closing the door gently until it clicked into place. All was quiet now, save for the odd rumble of thunder.<p>

Sly laid there for what felt like hours, glancing at the old wooden boards making up the top bunk. Part of him wondered why the lady had been in such a hurry jus tot get shut of him, but it wasn't really a pressing matter. The cane and his hat were still being clung to, his vision temporarily glancing over to the bunk across the room. The lower bunk occupant seemed large, his frame causing a big round shape to fall up and down with each breath. The blankets were shoved over his head , obscuring his face from view. The one on the top bunk was much smaller, the raccoon wouldn't have even seen him if not for the occasional nasal sound from his snoring. As new and probably interesting for most only children to be sharing a room with someone of a similar age, Sly didn't even consider it to be something to think about. In his head, those same events kept replaying in his head, like a bad dream that just wouldn't leave his memory. The urgency in his father's voice, the fear paralyzing him in that closet, the blood. And those eyes. If anything, all he could picture were those wide, yellow, glowing eyes. Eyes never glowed like that. Not unless the thing using them was something terrible. That much he knew. He drew the blankets closer to himself, up to his mouth and covering his snout. If there was a chance those eyes would find him, he didn't want to see it. A small whimper escaped his mouth, any sound coming from the room making him jump in surprise. Still, even underneath the safety of the sheets, those events were on loop. He clutched the fabric, the darkness of the room seeming like those terrible attackers could leap at him, cut him down just as they had done Daddy…inside, also on repeat, he kept wishing for the clock to get turned back. Why? Why had Daddy forced him into that closet? Why had he been a coward and not done anything to save him? He would've cursed, if he knew how to. On the outside, Sly was a blank sheet with no hope of getting past it. Inside, he was in turmoil.

A sound from the end of his bed made him suddenly shoot up in utter shock. It took a while for his eyes to adjust in the darkened space, but they were quickly widened as he saw a figure at the end of his bed. Instinctively, the blankets were brought up to around his face until something made him lower them after just a few short moments. The light from the early morning barely illuminating the mysterious strangers face, Sly recognised who it was instantly. Almost as if his wish had been granted, the person he needed most stood before him.  
>"D-Daddy…?"Conner's face showed a soft smile, almost as he had been moments before the intruders had knocked down their door. He cocked his head, flashing his teeth for a fleeting moment.<br>"Hey, kiddo".  
>Sly's own mouth broke into a smile for the first time in days, his grip on the cane loosening as he managed to crawl forwards. Conner knelt down at the side of the bed, catching the little boy in his hands and gripping him tightly as Sly launched himself off of the mattress. Tears rolled down the little one's cheeks as he almost crushed the breath out of his father. "Daddy, I-I'm so sorry…I didn't…."<br>"Shh, Sly, it's alright…I'm here…"  
>The little raccoon was overjoyed. It was just a terrible dream after all! His father was here, it was all just…some sort of nightmare.<br>"Daddy, I wanna g-g home…."  
>"We'll get there, kiddo. Really soon"<br>"P-Promise?"  
>"Of course, Sly. Just give me a little while a-"<br>Sly didn't have chance to think about why Conner had ceased talking until the sudden shout of pain escaping his father's mouth made the boy jump backwards in fear. Looking at Conner's body he could see why. A deep stain of red had suddenly spread across the elder's chest, a single drip spilling from his mouth before he keeled over. The younger raccoon screamed, squirming away against the wall as he watched his father groan before falling into that same position. The same twisted angle, the same pained expression. It was happening again. Another scream escaped him as a gigantic talon suddenly crashed down in front of the body, clamping into the ground and cracking the fragile wooden board. Sly's eyes were streaming with tears, yelps of fear and terror sounding out from him with every crack of that fragile material. The laughter of who knew how many echoed around him, like some sort of demonic chanting, growing louder and louder. The boy pulled the hat over his eyes, wishing for it to go away but it all just got closer and closer, almost as if those blades of steel could tear him down just as easily as the wood…  
>Darkness suddenly consumed his vision. Even taking the hat away, he could see nothing but a black void. Had they gotten to him to? Was this…it? A sudden burst of colour quickly drew a line under that conclusion. Piercing yellow momentarily blinded him before he instantly recognised the shape. Those same eyes that he had locked with just a few nights ago. The eyes that belonged to whatever terrible thing had done this to him. A scraping, metallic voice consumed his ears as the thing began to speak. It made the skin underneath his thick fur crawl.<br>"Nowhere left to run, raccoon"Sly shook his head, his tears having never stopped since seeing that horrible sight for the second time. It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't re-  
>A sudden gripping sensation around his chest almost winded him as the thing spoke again, as if to break himself out of his reassurance.<br>"You'll be next, Cooper. That I can promise you"  
>The gripping began to crush him tighter, exclamations of breathless pain being forced from him mouth. As he tried to force whatever it was away from him, his hands touched nothing. He could see nothing around his body, even though it felt like it was being squeezed in a gigantic vice. As his breath became more panicked and shallow, those eyes narrowed as if they were piercing into his very soul. He could feel a warm liquid spill over his lip as even the glowing look of menace was beginning to become blurred, illegible…<p>

"AHHHHHHHHHHH!"The raccoon shot up from his bed, almost hitting his head on the beams above him. His scream was more an involuntary reaction to check he could still breath before he inhaled deeply. His body was shaking, the cane having almost fallen out of the bed. It had been a touch to his arm that had stirred him, a touch that had caused him to jump back when he saw who it was. A young turtle, glasses resting on the edge of his beak had seemed to have just retracted his hand away from him, a look of surprise on his face. His attire consisted of a simple bowtie and shirt filled with pens in the pockets, only adding to his apparent "nerdy" stereotype. Stood behind him was a looming great figure, most likely the large shape under the blankets that Sly had seen the night before. A pink hippo in a light blue T-shirt, sharing an equal amount of surprise on his expression but slightly tinged with possibly a little apprehension. It quickly became clear to the raccoon that he'd suffered a nightmare. Whilst relief flowed through his system at being OK, it didn't dry the tears that were still flowing down his cheeks. He sniffed, backing away further into the bed as he re-gripped his cane. The turtle cleared his throat for a moment before he took another step forwards.  
>"Are you alright? Do you need anything?"<br>Sly simply glanced back, the fear in his eyes from what he had just seen apparent to all. He hadn't had much interaction with a lot of other children during the time back home, so now sharing a room with them was a little scary. The turtle reasoned their new roommate had arrived during the night and was most likely confused at being woken up from his apparent bad dream. He felt that probably explaining the situation would be more beneficial in this instance.  
>"You were making weird noises and shaking, I thought you were having some sort of panic attack! You sure you're alright?"<br>Sly simply nodded his head softly, squeezing the cane closer to him as his gaze glanced towards the bed sheets. The turtle place a finger under his chin, pondering the strange circumstances. Whoever this raccoon was, he was clearly shaken up at something. And the fact he had turned up out of the blue like this was also rather surprising and unusual. Well, might as well make him feel welcome.  
>"Well, uh…I'm Bentley. The big guy here's called Murray. It's, uh, nice to meet you"<br>Though his tone was as friendly as possible, the young raccoon didn't seem in the mood for conversation. He bobbed his head in acknowledgement he had heard what had been said, but nothing more. Bentley cocked his head disappointed. He tried another tactic. "What's your name?"  
>He received no response. He sighed, turning back towards Murray with a thoughtful look. "Looks like this'll be trickier than I thought" he said quietly.<br>"Yeah…wonder what's eatin' him up so much" the hippo agreed, raising his own brow in curiosity. "Poor guy was goin' crazy!"  
>Sly paid both of them no mind. He barely overheard their conversation, barely hear their offer to show him to breakfast. He had politely refused with a shake of the head but he had yet to utter a word to them even as they left. Bentley, as he walked with Murray who was rambling about what he was going to eat, reasoned it down to giving the new guy some space. After all, being more intelligent than most of the other orphans in Happy Camper, he saw the signs of distress easily. He just hoped that the older kids wouldn't be quick to break in "fresh meat".<p>

Unfortunately for Sly, the older kids were in the mood to inspect their new arrival. Carver, backed up by his friends Kyle and Marie. A self imposed nickname to make himself sound tougher than he really was, Carver's attitude suited his rough and grimey looks. His shirt and jean combination was casual but ripped, his hair messy and unkept. Kyle didn't do much better in seeming "friendly", choosing to wear all black clothing with one side of his face covered in dark locks. Piercings around his ears completed his look. Marie was slightly more "adventurous", wearing the usual low cut tops and skirts that most young teens her age wore but really shouldn't according to…pretty much everyone. Her dark orange hair parted to one side, an ear-ring looped into the tip of one ear. This older pack of wolves in their early teens had been notorious amongst the younger children for being able to take what they wanted and get away with it, especially since Mrs. Puffin would think they were well behaved and set an example. The reality was much bleaker and the younger kids knew it. Word had spread around the orphanage about a new arrival sharing a room with Bentley and Murray amongst some of the kids at breakfast, having been awake on account of the storm and hearing voices and such. Carver and the other two had heard too and were currently on their way to pay the new guy a visit.  
>When they reached Bentley and Murray's room, Sly was sat on the floor near his bed, scrawling idly at a piece of paper with some colouring pencils. It was something to kill the time anyway. Kyle was the first pick up, his dark hair flicked over one side of his face.<br>"Hey, new guy!"The sound made the young raccoon jump, darting his head around to see the 3 invaders of his private space sneering at him. He jumped backwards against the wall, wondering what they could possibly say. Marie stepped forward, her status as a bitch being evident in her tone of voice.  
>"Looks like we got a mute, Carver. Should make it less of a fight if we manage to take something"<br>The idea of them taking something prompted Sly to grip the cane even tighter, a weakness that was quickly exploited by Carver as he took a step forward.  
>"Well, well, well…this certainly looks pricey, might've been a rich kid at one point huh?"<br>"We could sell that for a ton of coin!" Kyle interjected.  
>Marie took actions instead of speaking. She stepped ahead of Carver and ripped the cane from Sly's hands, a surprised exclamation coming from the young raccoon.<br>"Really? I didn't even get a fight for it? This sucks…"  
>Sly got to his feet quickly, discarding the drawing completely and instinctively reaching for the cane. Being much taller than him, the female wolf laughed and held it out of his reach.<br>"This is what I wanted to see! Can't reach it, wittle guy? Too tall for ya?"  
>She let out a laugh like a cackle and threw the cane to Carver. The leader of the little pack continued to observe it, keeping it far out of reach of Sly as the younger raccoon grew ever more frustrated trying to get it back. Especially after Kyle had taken a step forward to stop Sly getting closer. The victim was helpless. Weak utterances of "Please!" and "Give it back!" were lost in the laughter of the bullies, his face once again taking on a sad expression as he jumped as hard as he could.<br>Then Kyle made a mistake.  
>After knocking Sly backwards to show off his "strength", he tossed the cane to Carver who watched as his henchman delivered a blow to Sly in words.<br>"What're you so worked about this stupid thing for, runt? It looks far too expensive to belong to you. Did you steal it from some rich parents? 'Cos I bet even this thing's worth more to them. That's why they dumped you here…"  
>Sly's fist began to clench, trying to fight back his tears through his growing temper. "No, I bet even your parents had this stolen. Just a bunch of poor and stupid thugs who threw you in here 'cos they were too stupid to know what to do!"<br>The final straw keeping him calm and silent snapped. Sly glared with almost unearthly rage at the second-in-command wolf and suddenly pounced from the floor, socking Kyle in the fast with a clenched fist. In utter shock, Caver and Marie froze as they saw their friend stumble to the ground and begin to suffer blow after blow of an enraged raccoon. Catatonic Sly was gone, replaced by all of his anger bubbling to the surface. Kyle had no idea about how important that cane was, had no idea how much Dad had cared for him! He kept delivering his punched relentlessly, screaming words and sometimes incoherently at the bully.  
>"DON'T! TALK! ABOUT! MY! DAD! LIKE! THAT! YOU! STUPID! MORON! BULLY! RAARGHHH!"<br>Sly kept this up for who knows how long. No-one talked about Conner that way. No-one. Not some stupid bully, not anyone….not anyone.

Eventually, Sly had to be physically dragged off by some of the other staff at the orphanage before he would stop hitting his target. Carver and Marie had both ran for it with the cane in hand and Kyle ended up with who knew how many bruises over his muzzle. The raccoon had quickly returned to his silent state almost as quickly as he had left it, even though he had screamed for a good few minutes after it all over. When confronted with Mrs. Puffin over the whole affair, he was naturally the one who got in trouble. According to her, it was an unprovoked attack that had happened due to his unstable nature at having witnessed such terrible things back at his home. At least, that was the story she was sticking with. She'd never have trusted a younger child over the more "responsible" little gang that had really caused the trouble in the first place. The cane was never brought up, as much as the boy wanted to. He couldn't find the words to say. Sly also knew he would never be believed either. He was promptly sent back to Bentley's room, the other kids occasionally staring at him in partial awe as he walked. No-one had ever stood up to Carver's gang and they never would've expected it from someone as seemingly quiet at Sly.  
>The raccoon took slow steps into the room before he collapsed onto his bed. Gripping the pillow tightly, he threw his head into it and began to sob into it to muffle his crying. He should've just stayed quiet, he should've stayed calm. Now he had gotten in trouble and lost the most important thing he had left of his old life. That cane had been priceless, an heirloom to the Cooper name…and the only object tying him back to his father. And now it was gone, lost in the depths of the bullies and their room. Mrs. Puffin certainly wouldn't help him and they wouldn't just give it back by being asked. All the young boy could think of would be what Conner would think of him for being so careless. He had always said "a great thief never loses his cool, even in the most dire situations". One of the basics and he'd blown that rule to pieces. He could only apologise mentally a thousand times over<p>

'_Dad…Daddy, I'm so sorry…I let you down, I didn't remember what you said…'_

"Uh…hey?"  
>Sly jumped at the sound and spun away from the pillow until he was sat up. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes to wipe away the tears. And those same eyes quickly became wide with surprise. Bentley had returned to the room, Murray in tow as well. Both of them were grinning encouragingly, Murray munching on a piece of cake, and surprisingly cheery given what had just happened. It was when he saw what resting in the turtle's hands that his mood was elevated too. It was the cane, just as Sly had "left" it. Bentley's smile widened, extending his hands further as an invitation for Sly to take it back from him. The raccoon didn't say a word, as he hadn't done before and placed his hands over the length of the cane. His mouth fell slightly open, a silent plea for an explanation which the turtle was quick to fill in.<br>"Me and Murray both heard what happened. We saw those meanies taking this thing from here and I could guess from your face earlier it was rather important. So, I managed to sneak a look at the footage from the camera in the hallway (don't ask, it's complicated" he said when a look of puzzlement crossed Sly's face. Murray nodded his head in agreement).  
>"I showed the footage to Mrs. Puffin and she checked those guy's rooms. Not only did she find this cane, but a bunch of other stuff from all the other kids. And you're a bit of hero, standing up to Kyle like that you know!"<br>"Seriously, Bentley lost desert privileges for breaking into that camera!" Murray pointed out, his tone enthusiastic and sympathetic at the same time. How that was possible, Sly couldn't guess. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wanted to help out! I'd go crazy if that happened to me…"  
>"Well, it was about time that those guys learned that brains always triumphs over brawn. And…"<br>The turtle paused before picking up his speech, deciding on how to phrase it. "I feel like we didn't get to know you that well, but we could still see you weren't OK. So…helping out seemed natural, really"  
>The raccoon kept staring at the cane with a surprised expression, holding it close to him with a slight smile of relief. As he glanced back up, he noticed Bentley and Murray were making their way out of the room, probably to give him some more "alone time". But, he couldn't stay alone now, not when these two had gone out of their way to help him like this. The turtle's attention was grabbed as he heard a voice behind him.<br>"Sly"  
>His span around, raising a brow with some astonishment that their new roommate seemed to have spoken. Murray had a similar reaction, almost dropping his cake onto the floor and barely managing to catch it in time.<br>"…what?" Bentley asked, puzzled as to what the raccoon meant. After all, the turtle hadn't been that sneaky, surely?  
>"My name…i-it's Sly"<br>He extended a hand, holding onto the cane with the other as he stood up. Bentley's smile returned as he took the hand and began to shake it. Finally, things were beginning to improve.

All the while, a certain orphanage head watched through a crack in the door, observing the scene with a smile. Mrs. Puffin smirked to herself. She had a feeling those three would cause her some grief in the future, especially if the last few days had been anything to prove it…but for now, she was happy that the poor raccoon had managed to find some companionship in a place such as this.

Indeed, memories were powerful things. Sly wasn't really sure why he had remembered those shaky first 2 days at Happy Camper, but a smile was on his face for those final few scenes replaying in his head. Not really "fond" memories, but that was the first time that his friends had really done anything for them. Naturally, he repaid them many times past them for the next few years, pulling off little "jobs" in and out of their place of childhood. But that particular moment, where Bentley said he could just tell how much the cane meant to the Cooper heir. It was because of that that Sly trusted the turtle to make modifications to such an important item at all. And Murray later explained how he had risked his dessert privileges too by helping Bentley reach the camera in the first place.  
>The thief surprised himself there. He could barely keep up with the modern plans they were pulling nowadays they were so complex and yet he could still remember such a tiny detail like that from years and years ago? Funny what the brain chooses to remember that vividly. His daydream was quickly interrupted by a scalding Bentley. Sly had chosen this particular moment to remember such things in the middle of a slideshow for their next job.<br>"Sly! Can you focus, please? This part's important to you particularly!"  
>"What're you pickin' on me for? Murray's munching away still…"<br>"Sly!"  
>"OK, OK!" the raccoon said with a laugh, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Just…got lost in thought there for a while. Go ahead, pal"<br>"Thank you!" the turtle said, shaking his head. "Now, back to the plan. Sly, you'll need Murray to get to this ventilation shaft here in order to gain access to Carver's vault…"

END


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